Fear and Excitement
by Woodland Goddess
Summary: This is my own musings on what might have gone in Lily Potter's head, prior to Halloween. It was one of my answers to an Epistolary Challenge on kingscrossstation dot proboards dot com


Title: Fear and Excitement

Author: Woodland Goddess

Rated: K

Pairing: Jily, but only mentioned in passing

Warnings: Suffering emotions when you read. Lol

Disclaimer: I own nothing publically recognisable. All publically recognisable characters, settings and other items belong to J K Rowling and her various publishers. I am making no profit; this is for my own enjoyment.

Summary: This is my own musings on what might have gone in Lily Potter's head, prior to Halloween. It was one of my answers to an Epistolary Challenge on .com

...

Journal,

I have just finished reading another four-inch thick tome, having spent approximately two days and a half pouring over the miniscule print. The book came my way, like a number of the others before it, through a House-Elf named Flossy, sent by Chand Patil, an expert on rituals derived from complex Charms, Potions and Ancient Runes. I asked him for permission to read his collection of texts because the Black, Potter, and Dumbledore libraries can only supply me with so much. I briefly considered conferring with Filius, but I thought better of it. Filius is an expert on Charms and an outstanding duellist, but the use of Charms in a ritual sense is a different kettle fish, altogether.

Fortunately, Chand Patil had once been a Professor at the Salem Witches' Institute in the United States prior to his family's relocation to the United Kingdom. He was only too eager to allow me permission to view his collection. He did not ask why I wanted to peruse them and, for that, I was extremely grateful. I do not want anyone to know what I am researching. It must be kept secret. Everything hangs upon what I can do with the knowledge I am gathering. It only takes one brilliant mind to destroy everything I have been working so hard to set in motion.

I have compiled everything that I have learned from the texts I have studied, and I have begun the process of developing my own ritualistic Potion and Charm, to be used in conjunction with a number of Ancient Runes that I have selected with the utmost care. In the morning I will begin gathering the required ingredients, though I will have to steal James' cloak of Invisibility and sneak out of the house before dawn even arrives. I will require eight grams of Powdered Horn of a Unicorn, three inches of the scales of a Gecko, a pint of Re'em Blood, eight Newt Eyes, two grams of Powdered Moonstone, four crushed Leeches, three strips of Knotgrass, nine shredded leaves of Hellebore, and three diced Ginger Roots.

The final ingredient and, perhaps, the most important one is my own blood, a total of two pints. My blood will not need to be added to the Potion until the very last moment, after letting the other ingredients simmer for the entirety of a month. The only other Potion that could rival the brewing length would be the Polyjuice Potion, which I have only ever brewed once and that was with the aid of a man far more talented with Potions that I could ever be. Both Potions are as difficult as the other.

I can never express how grateful I am that I had met Severus as a child, even though the way our friendship ended is not something that I particularly enjoy remembering. In all honesty, I wish I could forget that moment, pretend it never happened. Our friendship had been one of the more savoury things in my life. I will always cherish my memories of him. Without Severus, I could not be in the process of creating this Potion. Slughorn always claimed I was good at Potions, but it was only because Severus was tutoring me in his spare time, to make sure I understood every aspect of what was required in class.

Because of his tutelage I feel confident that I can brew this Potion. I must brew it. Whether my son lives or dies, should the worst happen, will depend on whether I can brew this Potion. I will succeed. I must. If I do not succeed I will never forgive myself. Harry is the most important thing in my world, more than James, more than my friends, more than my own life. I will die to protect him if I must.

For a year and a half I have feared that, that moment will indeed come to pass. I have feared it ever since Headmaster Dumbledore informed James and I that there was a rat somewhere within the Order Of the Phoenix...I must admit that pun was not, at all, intended. Poor Peter gets an awful doing, even without intent, it seems! He is always so glum, these days. I can imagine why. Sirius treats him terribly, the poor dear, and James can be negligent of him at times, though he does not mean to be. It just happens, sometimes, I think.

Tomorrow, when my ingredients have been found – and secreted away – I will bake him a cake. His favourite is Black Forest Gateau. I have never baked one before, so it should be a worthwhile experience. I hope he likes it, but even if he does not, I can know that I tried. That is really the only thing a person can do in life; try. I will try, for example, to keep my son as safe as I possibly can. If my plan can help him live, even if for only a moment longer, then it will truly be worth it. My sacrifice will be worth it.

Always worth it.

The mere thought of someone raising a wand to my son sends my stomach roiling. I try to fight the nausea when it rises at the thought, but sometimes I lose that fight. I cannot help it. That anyone would raise a wand to a child is positively monstrous! When I look at my Harry, all I can see is the happy sparkle in his large, wide, innocent green eyes, the slight curl of his messy black hair, and the dimples in his rosy cheeks as he smiles in his childish glee and wonder. My heart aches and my soul weeps at the sight of him reaching for me, the woman who brought him in to the world.

He is only fourteen months old, and already he is getting so big! I can hardly believe it! It seems like only yesterday James was cradling a tiny bundle delicately in his arms, as though our son were made of porcelain, while I lay weakly in our bed with Alice pressing an ice-cold cloth to my brown in an effort to cool me down after my difficult labour and Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts Medi-Witch, taking care of the after-birth with a flourish of her wand. Seeing Harry nestled in the crook of James' arms had been the happiest moment of my life. Harry is my bundle of joy. Our bundle of joy.

He spoke his first word three weeks ago, and every time James makes a face when he hears it, Harry just says it some more. It is so adorable. He has started calling James by his nickname, but cannot quite get his tongue around it yet, so, instead of saying "prongs", he says "pong!" I have to hold my breath to stop myself from laughing whenever I see the expression on James' face as a result of Harry trying to say his nickname. Whenever Sirius comes around to visit us, here in our un-plottable home in Godric's Hollow, James tries to keep the man away from Harry, because he knows that if Sirius hears Harry call him "pong" Sirius would not be able to stop laughing for almost a month after the incident.

James is trying his best to get Harry to say "dada", but it is tough going. Harry is adamant on calling him "pong." I hope James succeeds, for his own sake. We are going to take Harry trick-or-treating in a month's time. It will be his first time leaving the house and going around the village. Remus bought him his first proper Halloween costume – a Hippogriff, can you believe it, made with real feathers! Harry is going to look so adorable in it. Alice and Frank are going to bring Neville over so that we can all go trick-or-treating together. Neville is being dressed up as a little lion! How sweet! I will take as many photographs as I possibly can. Each one would be worth far more than a thousand words.

I eagerly await that night.


End file.
